


Happy Times

by loonanders



Series: The Ruins As They Were [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonanders/pseuds/loonanders
Summary: Raveena reflects on her childhood and what it means to have one.Based on the character questions sent by @nyxxbx
Series: The Ruins As They Were [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086890
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Happy Times

Voices slowly rose over the crackling of the flames, the laughs as soft and quiet as they were hearty. Though their throats were hoarse and bruised from countless battle cries and calls for help, they weren’t ready to go silent just yet. The campfire burned bright, but it was the stories they shared around it that lit up their eyes and warmed their hearts. It started with Sera jokingly remarking that the stew they were served for supper looked and smelled like the “potions” she loved to concoct in her backyard as a child.

“You did _what_ in your backyard?” interjected Dorian with such surprise that Sera herself was confused. Of course, he had to explain that he was seldom allowed to visit his own backyard without a nanny to ensure utmost decorum, thus such activities were out of question even for a child. The memories weren’t happy ones, but their pain was alleviated by Blackwall’s confession that he used to eat dirt as a child – an age they couldn’t even picture the rugged warrior at.

It went on like that for a while, questions going around the camp and weary souls eager to answer them. The reluctance to open up stood no chance against the melancholy of simpler times, when the sky wasn’t torn apart and the world wasn’t going to shit – at least not to their knowledge.

It was a knowledge Raveena had been bearing for as long as she existed, still, she indulged in the temporary relief the stories offered, imagining a time when her only and biggest concern would have been whether she too could outrun a snake.

“–and I _ran_ for my life,” he narrated with vigorous hand gestures, the shadow they cast on his face depicting his story vividly, “bolted so fast from that thing I didn’t even see the goat that was in the way. Ran head first into it, that’s how I got this scar.”

“Ha! Reminds me of when Cyriel got attacked by a snake. Except instead of running, _he_ bit it.”

“Don’t forget to mention mother smacked me behind the head and left me crying while she was tending to the snake. She was more concerned about it she was about me,” muttered Cyriel between two sips of ale, the wound still fresh despite how long it had been.

“For her defense, anyone is more likely to catch a disease from you than from a snake, rabid dog that you are.”

Cyriel’s face twisted into a mocking grimace as Sera spat her potion-stew and the others roared into laughter. Raveena simply snorted. The memory was amusing, but she was mostly relieved she finally had something of her own to contribute. Silence is suspicious and Raveena couldn’t afford to let curiosity fester, even if it meant lying. Despite his inclination towards lies, Cyriel was usually more honest than his sister. The answers he gave were outrageous enough to not be taken seriously, truth turned into lie whenever it was too big to believe. That was the only way people knew how to deal with facts that scared them.

 _P_ _eople seek comfort, not the truth._ And if Raveena couldn’t offer one, it would have to be the other. When questions around their childhood arose, she could only give this comfort in the form of stories made up on the spot or prefabricated for such occasions, a piece from the intricately woven web of lies she and Cyriel had made their safety net. Every once in a while, the tales she told were real, only they were convenient anachronisms: she twisted time as she saw fit, rearranged the events of her life and attributed them to an age that never was or shouldn’t have been. Even her truth was tainted by lies.

But even if Raveena wanted to tell the immaculate truth, she wouldn’t be able to, for she did not know it.

They were like a magnificent ruin, standing proudly until time broke them down and they could no longer remember what they were supposed to be. All they knew was that they were older than anything else, older than time itself. Old enough to have seen the world burgeon and wither over and over again, repeating the cycle endlessly without them ever tiring of watching it stumble on itself. They knew they weren’t there, and then one day they were. Of course, that explanation–if it could even be considered one–wouldn’t satisfy anyone. It would only raise suspicions on their nature and the means used to achieve such longevity. Her motives would be questioned, vilified, they would lose trust and everything they had been working for. It had happened before. She didn’t remember when or how, but she remembered the feeling.

Despite everything, they too were young once.

They shared that typical curiosity that children have, though it was more like that of a cat watching an upside down turtle. _Silly little things,_ they thought as they looked at the small creatures on the other side, _so afraid and powerless._ They nudged them back to their feet and showed them the way they chose for them, unconcerned with the unfortunate consequences their actions sometimes had. It was all like a big game to them; let them wipe each other out then start over. Then they learned as they went. Is that not what being a child is meant to be like?

Still, it wouldn’t do. So she lied through her teeth, made them seem as human as everyone thought they were. As she sometimes wished they’d been.


End file.
